Reno & Tseng: The Cave Scene
by NobodyVIII
Summary: No, don't get Hunger Games ideas. Reno and Tseng have crash-landed on a mountainside, and until help arrives, a cave, some alcohol, and talk are all they have to survive on. One-Shot, conversational piece from a role-play with my Tseng. Angst? Maybe so.


Crash landings: Reno's specialty. And of all places it had to be on a frozen mountainside. Thankfully the chopper he had been manning hadn't burst into flames. But the smoke was enough to drive anything living away from the scene. The Turk was used to bailing out and fending for himself in these kinds of situations, but this time it was a little different.

This time, the Director was with him.

The mountain that Reno had so unfortunately crashed into was kind enough to have a cave open and ready for them to take shelter in, along with a few scantily clad evergreens to provide kindling. The red-headed Turk opted to try and salvage communications with Shin-Ra in the radio wreckage while Tseng stripped the nearest trees of their bark and limbs for firewood.

Before long the Turk leader was sitting beside a manageable flame, awaiting the arrival of his subordinate. He was just putting another stack of twigs on the fire when a blue-tinged Reno returned, scratching ice from his hair and shrugging in defeat. It seemed that they were stranded for the moment.

The red-head sat down without a word, soaking in the warmth of the fire; rubbing his hands together and then blowing hot air between them. He glanced at the Director, looking for some idea of what the man was thinking, but Tseng didn't bother to glance his direction. Instead, he kept his dark eyes on the flames.

Awkward silence fell.

"Congratulations Reno…" Tseng's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "This would have to be the worst place you've crash landed so far…" Silence always put Reno on edge. This, he could work with.

"…At least we're alive…?" he offered. Reno leaned back on the palms of his hands and stretched out.

"Yes. We are alive. We also have to find a way down the mountain with no food, water, or supplies."

"Looks like I'll have to resort to eating you," said Reno, grinning a little. "You even made the fire for me. How thoughtful."

"I hope for your own sake that's a joke Reno…" Tseng replied. The red and gold embers danced their reflections in his firm gaze. Somewhat amused, Reno took the hint.

"'Course sir," he said, picking up a stray stick and rolling it between his fingers. "You'd taste stale anyway."

Silence.

"I'm not sure why that offends me," Tseng spoke up suddenly, "but I don't think I want to know." The Director moved slightly closer to the fire. "It's too cold to be angry with you."

Reno tossed the stick in with the rest of it's burning comrades and rose to his feet. "I'll have to remember that next time. When in trouble, make Tseng cold. Situation resolved."

"I wouldn't advise it," Tseng replied firmly. "I hate being cold and it might make me more annoyed at you." Reno chuckled as he turned, walking back into the snow." Tseng frowned. "Where are you going?"

The red-head didn't bother to stop and yelled over his shoulder, "I always keep an emergency kit in the chopper…just in case. Installed it myself!"

Tseng paused, his brow furrowed as Reno disappeared into the drifting white world outside the warm cave. Reno being prepared: this was new. Moments later, the Turk reemerged carrying a somewhat battered black box.

"It's kinda melted but let's see if it's worth anything," said the red-head, dumping his load in front of the fire and readying his frozen hands.

"…what did you pack in it?" Tseng asked. "Medical supplies? Fresh water?" Fingers thawed, Reno busied himself with the melted latch. He pushed and twisted at it, picked and scratched.

"S..something...like...thaaat…" _Click_! The latched popped. "Here we are. Tada!"

Silence. The irritation was palpable.

"….I can't see anything useful in there…" Tseng finally announced.

The stash wasn't exactly what Shin-Ra would call an 'Emergency Kit'…two packs of beer, one blanket, four packs of cigarette, and a candy bar.

"What are you talkin' about? It's everything I thought I'd need in an emergency." Reno's grin died as the stone cold eyes of the Director locked onto his.

"In an emergency you thought you would need alcohol...a blanket…" He turned his gaze back to the fire in disbelief. "Just no."

"Oh, and I had flares in here but I've had to use 'em since," Reno added, hoping to smooth the situation over.

Tseng, apparently, wouldn't abide by it.

"I can't believe I actually thought you were going to be useful. Why do I keep deluding myself? Alcohol...of course that's what Reno would pack for an emergency situation…"

"Keeps ya warm, anyway," said Reno.

Silence.

"Thats why we light a fire, Reno."

"If there's one thing I've learned in my time in the suit, it's that my performance improves dramatically after a good drink." The red-head pulled a bottle out of the 'emergency kit' and settled down in front of the fire.

Tseng sighed deeply. If possible, he burned the word _incompetence_ on his counterpart's forehead through sheer willpower. "Enjoy your beer, Reno, it might be the last thing you ever drink. If this mess doesn't kill you, Rufus will."

"And if Rufus doesn't you will, right? Heard this song before." Reno popped off the cap and took a swig. He waved his bottle at Tseng. "You want one?"

Tseng's face hardened. A thousand responses came to mind, but in light of the situation at hand, none seemed descriptive enough. Finally, he allowed himself to take a mental step back and look at the facts. There had been no established communication between Shin-Ra and the stranded Turks, there was little food, a dwindling supply of firewood, and always the possibility that they would not be found. With some inner hesitation, he gave in.

"Why not...it's not as if it can make my day any worse…" Reno brightened.

"There ya go! And besides, it's not like anybody's gonna find out. Ya know, that you lowered yourself to a drink I offered you." Reno reached into the 'kit' once more and tossed the Director a bottle. Tseng caught it one-handed and pointedly looked anywhere but Reno's general direction.

"Lowered myself?" he said. "Have you ever stopped to consider that you just aren't offering me drinks I particularly like?"

"Seeing as how I take pretty much any drink offered...no, can't say that's ever crossed my mind." Reno replied.

Silence.

Tseng took a few well paced swallows and set the bottle aside. "I don't particularly like to drink much anyway," he said. "Far too self destructive."

"Really?" Reno replied. "I think it clears my head." The red tipped his own drink back and chugged.

Tseng watched, caught somewhere between disgust and idle entertainment. "…I can't say I've ever found that to be true." He paused. "Doesn't it ever bother you? All the harm your doing yourself by drinking that much…?"

Reno found a more comfortable position and kicked back. "Nah...guess I don't let myself stop and think about it much. Makes life easier, ya know?"

"…oddly enough, yes." Tseng took another quick drink.

Reno half-choked on his own bottle in mock amazement. "Haha…he's human."

Tseng replied, his face indifferent, "I've told you before, Reno, I'm as human as anybody else; I'm just better at hiding it than you are."

Reno laughed. "Sure." He held the bottle out in front of him, watching the contents swirl around. He found himself suddenly sobered. "I don't know. It's kinda funny now that you mention it. I never really think about what I'm doing. I just sorta do it cuz, ya know, nobody lives forever. " The red-head fished a cigarette from the supply stash and lit it on an ember. He took in a long draw of smoke and blew out a stream of the acrid stuff. Then, he swept up the bottle once again, then the cigarette, then the bottle. It was a vicious cycle.

Tseng watched Reno silently for a moment. Then, quietly, he spoke.

"I just do my duty. I can't imagine not analyzing a situation. Just acting seems so reckless."

"Probably," Reno replied, blowing smoke everywhere. "But it got me here, so, ...must be worth something."

"And here is a good place to be?" Tseng posed the question. He sighed slightly. "You've always confused me Reno... By all rights you should not be a Turk - your the worst person I can think of for the job and yet... somehow you do well…"

"Thanks, sir. Means a lot," Reno snorted. "Well, if it helps, you're not exactly an easy guy to place either. I mean, you're great and all but there's nothing there. Just work. And work.

Tseng paused. "…Work is easier."

Something shifted in Tseng's tone. This topic was personal. Pale blue eyes searched the Director's face quizzically."What do ya mean?"

"When I am thinking about work, it prevents me from thinking about other things," he replied, that same tone edging his voice. "Much like your 'living in the moment' idea."

"Hell, Director, whadaya gotta worry about outside of work?" Reno asked. "That's...kinda all you do, sir."

And to Reno's surprise, Tseng chuckled.

"Remembering things, Reno… I think too much, perhaps."

This was new territory. The little bit of drink that the Director had consumed probably contributed to it, but for the first time since the beginning of the red-head's career, Tseng was actually letting his subordinate trespass into the forbidden grounds of his personal life. And Reno knew, even with the high amount of alcohol sloshing about in his own system, that he had to tread carefully, or he would never be allowed access again.

"…Care to share?" he nudged. "Come on, you've got me curious. Oh wait: don't tell me you actually do find some woman somewhere attractive. That's it, isn't it?" he laughed. "Secret love." Going for the long shot first always seemed to ease the tension.

"Don't push your luck Reno." The red-head quieted down. "Nobody alive knows my reasons for keeping quiet and I like it that way. Turks don't have lives outside of the company... who we were and who we are... they aren't the same…"

"Yeah…" Reno replied, quietly. "…guess that's right. You're right. You do think too much."

"Aside from everything else, I'm not keen on giving things away for free," Tseng said.

"What would it take?" Reno prodded. "Seriously, it's not like we've got anything better to do."

"Information for information, Reno."

The red-head blinked. He rose slowly into a more alert position, his head cocked to the side. Questioning.

"What...what kind of info are we talkin here?"

Tseng continued.

"Fair trades. I will answer one question if you answer it. For example, if you wanted to know where I grew up, you would have to tell me of your old home."

This wasn't quite what Reno had in mind. Talk about his past? To Tseng? He didn't even like thinking about what had been…much less letting anybody else in on the subject.

"Ech…"

Tseng didn't waver.

"Hmm…"

Reno scratched the back of his head, weighing the options. He decided to go with 'What-The-Hell'.

"I guess so." He straightened a bit, uncertain, but willing. "Sure."

Tseng paused. "…I didn't expect you to accept…" Reno shrugged.

"Like I said, we've got nothin better to do."

"Except perhaps freeze to death…" Tseng submitted.

"And then your secret's safe," Reno chuckled.

"…True…" There was a long silence. Then, Tseng relented. "Very well."

Reno prompted, "Where'd you come from? Before all this."

Tseng hesitated. "You answer first."

"Woah, hold on now. I asked you first," Reno replied. Tseng frowned, but his visage softened as he answered the question properly.

"…Wutai."

"Oh." It was all Reno could think to say. Wutai had always been a sort of thorn to Shin-Ra's side, so to speak. This news was…interesting. "…Yeah?"

"Yes. The eastern mountains," Tseng stated. "You?"

"The slums. Sector…7." Sector 7. The area that had been destroyed during a run-in with AVALANCHE, a rebel group intent on destroying Shin-Ra. No, not just destroyed. Crushed under a million tons of steel and stone. And Reno had been the one to do it…with the mere push of a button.

"I see…" Tseng answered slowly. "You have my commiserations."

"Shut up."

The Director eyed Reno in surprise at this sudden harsh response. But Reno just stared forward, deep hurt and anger festering beneath his pale blue orbs. This conversation was off limits.

"…Anyway," continued the red-head, "…so, you have family?"

"You tell me to be silent and then ask another question…?" Tseng asked.

Still, Reno stared ahead. "Yep." Tseng sighed. He too turned and stared at the space in front of him.

"I… did."

"Don't have 'em now, huh."

"They died, fighting in the war against Shin-Ra…"

"Hm…." Reno paused. "…sorry."

Silence.

"…Thank you," Tseng said quietly. "What about you?"

"Nah. Parents died when I was a kid. Never had any brothers or sisters."

Tseng studied Reno's face. "That is... probably for the best," he said.

"So you did?" the red-head asked.

"I did. An elder brother." The same hint of hurt and anger Reno had expressed glowed faintly beneath the steady control of Tseng's gaze. Something akin to sympathy stirred inside the younger Turk.

"What was his name?" Reno asked carefully.

Tseng picked up his bottle and washed down a mouthful before answering. "Chai."

"Sounds like a Wutai name," Reno said. "You two get along?"

"….We were brothers…" Tseng replied matter-of-factly. "We had our fights but we cared about each other. We were very different."

"Like how?" This memory seemed to weigh heavily on the Wutai Director, and it was obvious he was loathe to speak further. But he managed.

"He was like you. A slacker."

Reno blinked. "…pfft. Get out."

Tseng frowned slightly. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I just can't picture you being related to anybody like me," Reno said, relaxing a little as the warmth of the fire and liquor combined in his system…and as the threat of sharing his own personal details passed. "It's something I didn't think about. Just interesting I guess."

"I see….you assumed anyone sharing blood with me would be a carbon copy of me?" Tseng queried.

Reno chuckled. "Kinda."

Tseng looked away again. "Not quite."

"Huh. Did he give you a hard time then? If he was anything like me, he had to."

"Like I said, we were brothers. I am given to believe that is what brothers do."

"Ha, I wouldn't know, so." Reno flicked ash from the tip of his cigarette and shoved it in the corner of his mouth.

"Indeed…." Tseng eyed him slowly. "Incidentally, this isn't seeming like a fair trade of information anymore."

"…I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

"Really." The Director seemed mildly amused by the fact that Reno assumed that Tseng could miss something so trivial. "Perhaps at the very least a subject change is in order."

"Sure," Reno replied. He thought for a moment. "You have a girlfriend?"

"…no."

"Did you?" Reno pressed.

"No."

"Somehow I knew that was coming." Reno blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

Tseng paused. "…dare I ask you the same?"

"Which day, time, and place?" Reno grinned. "Ha, no, not at the moment. But yes. Many, many. Sort of."

"…I doubt you truly cared for many, if any, of them." Typical Tseng had magically returned.

"They were good at what they did. Let's just say that." Reno puffed on his cigarette. "There was one, but that's different."

"…really?"

"Yeah. We...grew up together. It's been years. She's pissed at me anyway." The bottle was empty, so Reno popped open what was, by now, his third, just as Tseng finished the last drop of his first.

"So the one girl you cared about doesn't feel the same way?" Tseng asked.

"I wouldn't know," Reno replied. "Like I said, it's been years and we left on a sour note. I'm guessing not. Never been another one like her, though."

"I see," Tseng said. "I'm sorry."

Silence.

"But this is once again turning on me, so it's my turn," Reno declared. Tseng sighed.

"Yes.. fair enough."

Without missing a beat, Reno asked: "What got you into Shin-Ra? With a Wutai family and all."

Tseng hesitated. "…that is... very complicated…"

Reno began consulting an imaginary calendar. "Well, my next appointment isn't until, oh, a week from now, so I've got the time." Tseng ignored him.

"I was a guard at one of the peace talks with Shin-Ra… The president promised peace if I joined the company and we gave over the guard hound we had with us. By the time I was out of training, the war had started."

Now it was Reno's turn to frown. "Shocker." He gulped down several mouthfuls of alcohol and lit a new cigarette, coughing on the combination of the two. "This company is screwed up."

"What did you expect-'I heard there was good pay'? The President wanted to get all he could out of Wutai before he destroyed it."

"Figures. That sounds like a Shin-Ra to me. Sorry, sir. I…didn't know."

Tseng sighed deeply.

"It's… quite alright Reno... I'm just slightly... bitter about what happened…" Reno watched the internal battle on Tseng's face as logic told the Turk Director to keep silent and liquor told him to keep talking.

"Why didn't you kill him?" Reno asked suddenly. "The late President. You had every opportunity." This seemed to catch Tseng's attention as Reno continued. "I just know I'd be too pissed to think straight."

The Director considered this point of view.

"At first I did nothing due to the aftershock of the training... It took me quite some time to recover mentally and physically. But then I began to think, and the more I thought about the situation, the less likely it seemed that I could do anything... Even if I broke my word and attempted it."

"Yeah. I guess you're right." Reno plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and considered it before tossing it into the snow outside. He watched the embers flicker and fade until the cold killed the last of it's fire. "You've got a lot more control than I'll ever have."

"Control isn't really a factor, Reno. I had nowhere to return to if I killed the President and I didn't particularly want to throw away my life by killing him."

"Exactly what I've thought at times." An empty laugh escaped him. "That sucks, sir."

Tseng watched the smoke curling up from the diffused cigarette. "Agreed."

Silence.

"How is it you came to join the company?" Tseng asked.

Reno perked up. "Ha, saved Rude."

"Pardon?" Tseng frowned. This information was apparently news to him.

"I ran with a gang growing up and we got mixed up in Shin-Ra business. One thing led to another and a Turk got shot. Just didn't sit right with me. I mean, we did what we had to do, but killing somebody wasn't worth it, ya know? So, I stayed behind while they split and…the guy's Turk buddies nabbed the wrong kid." Reno grinned at the memory. "Just so happened the guy was Rude."

"Fortunate for you," Tseng stated.

"You bet."

The Director frowned. "And everyone was satisfied?"

"Haha, nah. They were gonna kill me, but Rude vouched. Still," Reno stretched, flopping onto his back and putting his arms behind his head, "they told me that someone would be held responsible for the gang's actions, and if it wasn't me, it was gonna be the gang…and they were gonna do it the good old fashioned way." Reno drew a line across his throat.

"…I see…" Tseng said.

"Yeah. My personal opinion is that the Turk quota was low at the time and they couldn't say no to my good looks. Either that, or command was drunk or high at the time. At any rate, to keep the company away from the gang kids, I 'took responsibility'…meaning they got to slap a suit on me and call me a Turk. So...there ya have it."

Tseng considered the story. "I see. Unfortunately, it doesn't surprise me. I do not know of many people who would willingly become a Turk…"

A comfortable silence descended. The two Turks watched the fire die down for a while in peace, until Tseng put more kindling on it to preserve the warmth of the cave. Before long, Reno was snoring. The Director watched for a time, a distant memory replacing the red-headed Turk with a dark-headed Wutai boy in his mind's eye. But it never did any good to dwell on the past, and Tseng knew this better than anyone. No, he would banish the brother to a dark corner of his memory, and focus on what was immediately important…the task at hand…surviving long enough for a rescue party to find their location. He stood and straightened his coat. The world swam uncomfortably for a moment as the alcohol in his system made itself known, but he pushed the grogginess aside and stepped to the mouth of the cave. For a moment he looked back: the fire was appropriately fed, the red-head was fast asleep, and they still had a candy bar and enough beer to last them for a day or so, at the rate Reno drank them. There was one final adjustment to be made. It was by no means a necessary one, but Tseng acted on it before he could change his mind. He tossed the blanket over Reno's slumbering form. And with that, the Director faced the cold and snow and set off towards the helicopter remains to see about fixing the transmitter.


End file.
